(2)My Mind and My Memory: The Changing
by Me And Not You 1001
Summary: Eponine is in serious trouble. She and Lady Celebrian were kidnapped by orcs. What will happen now? Will the twins find her in time, or will the worse happen? Set 500 years before LotR. The twins, Arwen, a few OCs, maybe Aragorn later. Rated T for torturous scenes and previously talked of torture. The 2nd to the MMaMM series.
1. Chapter 1 Pulled Apart

**Warning: Mentioned torture**

* * *

I crumbled against the cold rock behind me, keeping my back to the cold stone; to turn your back on the enemy was to get it stabbed. I tried to lay there, forgotten, and forget what happened, but my mind, my stupid, useless, broken mind, would not let me. Everything that happened, everything they did; over and over and over. It played, a hundred times, a thousand times, over and over. Torturing my mind long after my body had been forgotten for the morning.

"Nîn, my love." I jerked out of my torturous memories at the sound of Lady Celebrian's voice. It used to be soft and gentle with a light tinkling sound to it, like birds and streams. Now, it was grating and rugged, hoarse from unhealthy use.

"Lady," I answered, cringing at my own voice, it was no better than Lady Celebrian's. I could not look at her, I didn't need another image to add to my arsenal of nightmares. I remembered perfectly what she looked like when she was home, happy and safe, but somehow that was dwarfed—hill to mountain—by all the memories I carried of her many tortures.

"My sweet, I-I do not—kn-know how mu-much longer…" She trailed off in a fury of evil coughs.

Unwilling tears sprung to my eyes; it was easy enough to know what she was trying to say. "No," I whispered to her, curling tighter into myself. "Please, no. You cannot leave me."

I cringed, curling even tighter as a raspy sob told me she was crying as well. "I know, my sweet. I know you do not want to be alone. I have held on for so long."

I knew this. From the few times we were able to speak, I had learned this. She only ever held on for me, she wasn't as strong as me—so she said, but I would be lost without her. Any promise I'd given to the Sisters would be void, without the help of my adopted mother. After all, was it not Lady Nienna who said to never bear grief and pain alone.

Even as I thought of them, rage filled me. The Sisters had warned me of struggle, but this was not struggle, this was pure torture. I couldn't remember exactly how much time had passed. In the order and schedule, I'd always needed and desired, this was the worst I'd ever imagined. Every torture, every shot of pain blurred together in a never-ending blur of time, molded together and without a sun or clock to tell the time, without the concentration needed, it was impossible to figure out how much time had passed. It could have been a day, or it could have been a month. The pain required to return to those dark and endless memories, just wasn't worth figuring out how long it'd been.

The silence in our dark, dank cave gave me a haunting feeling, echoing with the screams that had previously filled it; our screams. I pushed down the memories, refusing the think on them, resisting every urge to analyze it until I understood. Once was enough, twice was too much, anything more will drive me to insanity.

"Nîn," Lady Celebrian stopped as the sound of heavy booted feet reached our ears, echoing through the cave. Involuntarily I flinched, tensing.

Already?

Both of us were deathly silent where we lay, waiting as the boots echoed, drawing nearer. When the ugly leather boots, roughly thrown together and treated worse, stopped just within my line of vision, I blinked slowly not bothering to look up.

"Oh, is our little pussy tired?" Falum, the orc that tortured me the most, sneered. "Well, that's to bad, because we're going on a little trip. Get up, elf."

I frowned, looking up at his ugly twisted face. "What?"

He laughed, cackled madly, "That's right, bitch, we're going on a trip, just you and me."

Ignoring my pained back, I shot into a seated position, jerking away from his hand as he reached for my arm. My eyes flew over and met Lady Celebrian's. Her soft grays were full of confusion and fear, at the thought of us being separated, I could easily say, the same fear filled me.

I shrieked as my dislocated shoulder flared with pain, as Falum jerked me upright, onto my sore and blistered feet. I shrieked again, but suddenly the pain didn't matter anymore. Falum wrapped an arm around my waist and attempted to lead me away.

"No!" I cried, jerking out of his arms, falling to my knees. "No! Lady!" I attempted to crawl toward her, just as she tried to come to me.

Falum snarled. "Hey, maggots, get in here and hold the witch back, while I go."

Three more orcs appeared, pulling Lady Celebrian from my arms. My scream joined Lady Celebrian's; Falum's arm was around my waist again, pulling me away.

"Lady! Lady! No!" Tears I couldn't afford to lose poured from my face as Falum threw me over his mangy warg and followed behind me. I could still hear Lady Celebrian's screams for me.

"Nîn! Éponine!"

"Lady! La—NANA!" My heart broke! My faë shattered! I felt like I was in a thousand different pieces and feeling the most unbearable pain in each and every one!

I couldn't do it!

NO!

I was wrong, all the torture from before, all my physical pain, I would endure it a thousand times, so long as I had her near me!

No!

"NANETH!"


	2. Chapter 2 Consumed and Conquered by Mora

**Warning: Mentioned Torture and Eponine cusses at Falum.**

* * *

I had no words. I felt nothing. Even my hate and anger toward the Sisters had vanished. As the warg bore us away from those dreaded caves, with Falum riding behind me, one arm warped around my waist, I did not resist any longer.

I was utterly empty and did not bother looking into my memories to analyze. I had the strength to finally acknowledge my adopted mother and the love I had for her, but now she was out of my reach and beyond the stars. I doubted I would ever see her again, alive. I was too weak to accept what I felt, fearing that she would not love me in return, even as she told me so, every day at the exact same time. I was a coward and now she was forever beyond my grasp.

My torture had no meaning, my pain was useless. Nothing, none of it, none of what I felt, thought, or cared about mattered now. The image of my naneth grasping for me as the warg carried me away from her was a memory that would forever be at the forefront of my mind and never did a day go by, when I did not think of it.

I felt so empty, so lost, like a small speck of dust in a galaxy of enormous never-ending stars. I was nothing. Meaningless. Useless. The Sisters seemed to think I had a purpose, but they spoke falsely. They were wrong. They gave me false hope and foolish faith.

Even as I thought these thoughts, a soft low cackle found it's way into my ears. Falum seemed to guess my thoughts and found them amusing. "Oh, little princess, you have lost your faith. What a dangerous thing for an elf. I do enjoy when dangerous things happen."

Even as he spoke, my faë let out a desperate cry of pain as a dark, evil malice entered my body. I screamed physically, my fear more than anything, causing it to be so loud. The malice was not hindered as my now shattered, faithless faë attempted to push it back with strength it did not possess. Easily, I was conquered. Shamelessly, did it ravage through my memories. Purposefully, did it pushed forth every dark, painful, and weighted memory I carried, from both this life, and the last. I could not resist it, even if I had the strength to try.

My faë was in shambles, small shattered pieces, but even with it so useless, somehow that dark malice managed to make me feel every ounce of pain in my life, in every single piece. A little over a score years' worth of perfectly remembered pain, felt in the pieces of a shattered soul—faë, a thousand or more. That was twenty-eight thousand years of pain.

Ten million, two hundred-twenty thousand days. Two hundred-forty-five million, two hundred-eighty thousand hours. Fourteen trillion, seven hundred-sixteen million, eight hundred thousand minutes. Eight hundred-eighty-three trillion, eight million seconds.

~X~X~X~X~ **(AN: In case anyone is wondering, the math is Éponine's involuntary/unrealized way of dealing with the excruciating pain.)**

Time. It passes, I know, but I do not care. The memories, they are always there, pushed forth by the Darkness. Inside me, I can feel it ravage my very soul, whatever is left of it. I do feel an innate desire to flee, to let myself go and sour among the stars, but the Darkness forbids it. It whispers to me, giving commands and taking control. I cannot resist it. It has me trapped within, in a gilded cage, taking command, whether I wish it or not.

Pain. Pain has become a constant thing. I am almost used to it, though if one were to be truly used to it, then it would cease to exist, it would no longer be pain…should that make sense?

Outside, out of my body, much happens, though I cannot find the strength to care. Falum carries me far from that cave. We enter a forest, a large beautiful forest, though the edges near the ruins are darkening with sickness. My fëa feels it, as the Darkness relishes in showing me another way by which It could torture me. It whispers dark thought and evil lies to me, all the time. I know they are false, but I haven't the strength to contradict It. We arrive at the great dark ruins of an old elven fortress. The Darkness is awed by it, in love with it. I would find it hideous if I had any emotion toward it, but I do not.

"Stand!" The Darkness snarls when we are thrust off the warg, dumped to the stone courtyard.

 _I shall not!_ It hisses. Though it says so, it attempts the command, but for all of its strength, it cannot undo what has been done. My fëa could heal my body, if I willed it, though I do not. I cannot walk, and the Darkness cannot.

"Come on, scum!" Falum snaps. "Up."

The Darkness hisses again. "Fuck off!"

Falum's yellow eyes narrow in anger, the only sign before I am cuffed across the face. I fall forward, head slamming painfully on the stone. The Darkness is greatly displeased but will not admit the weakness of my flesh.

"Mm," Falum looked thoughtful for a moment, "perhaps it needs to be sealed." He spoke not to me, nor the Darkness, but it seemed to himself. He grabbed a fistful of my dark hair, using it to drag me away. The Darkness is furious and fights his treatment, but I am silent, indifferent. I care not for what he has planned. Oh, I should have been though, I certainly should have been.

~X~X~X~X~

The Darkness is silent. I was uncertain about how I should feel, if I felt at all, about its fear. I knew it felt fear, I could hear its voice, low and guttural chanting in the deep recesses of my mind. _Cannot, must mot. Cannot, must not. Do not, cannot, must not. Stop, fight, flee. Stop, fight, flee. Flee fight, stop. Fight, stop, flee. Stop, flee, fight._

Its voice, female, maybe, sounded confused and lost. There was nothing either of us could do, she could not, I cared not, as Falum chained us to a stone wall, stained dark with the black blood of past orcs.

The broken pieces of my caged fëa shivered in ominous fear as he began painting figures and strange signs all about our body with thick white clay. Other, smaller, grosser orcs that repulsed even the Darkness came, taunting and teasing. Falum grew irritated with them, but allowed them to watch, even as he tore of the tattered remains of my elven dress.

They hooted and howled, but somehow, Falum kept them away. This was well, for even the Darkness hissed, in our mind, at the exposure, promising pain and death to any who came near us. They were naught but threats, however, as Falum had secured us well enough we were at the mercy of the grotesque black creatures before us.

The Darkness watches with attentive awareness, though I care not. I feel nothing, the numbness caused me to feel suffocated at times. I had not choice, but to watch what happened, though even should I find a reaction to give, the Darkness would not allow it.

I care not how long it took Falum to finish the strange clay tattoos but finish he did. The room filled with even more orcs. The Darkness snarled and hissed at them all, snapping our teeth at them, should they come too close. Somewhere, deep within the hidden recesses of myself, that even I wasn't certain about, I felt perhaps I might have been grateful to her, for protecting me, but even as I thought I felt this, it was gone, and the numbness folded back over me like a winter quilt in a desert of boiling sand.

When Falum began to chant, we gasped, together, the Darkness and I. The tattoos began to burn and seep into our skin. It was discomforting, but not painful. When the other orcs joined, we screamed.

Together, the Darkness and I, we were suddenly subjected to the worse torture imaginable. Those days in the cave with Lady. The sundering of my soul. The conquering of the Darkness. None were likened to the pain of your very being was taken, turned inside out for all to see, and replaced, mixed and molded, grafted with white-hot iron to another. To have two minds rather than one. To become one and yet two. To be both dark and light. Pure and defiled. Perfect and most horribly disfigured, abnormal.

I was me. I was her. She was me. She was her. I was dark, I was light, I was. Was I? I? Me? Her? She? We? They?

A torrent of memories, mine, hers, someone's, flooded through. We turned, twisted, were thrust together and pulled apart. We were one. We were two. We were one. We were a thousand. We were nothing. We were.

We? I? Me? Her? She? They?

What was I? What was it I loved? What was it to love? To be loved? What was anything? What was pain? I knew pain, right? That is what I felt, right? I? We?

 _Yes, we. Right? We?_

Are there two, or is there one?

 _Are we separate? Are we the same?_

Name. What is a name? I have a name, yes?

 _Yes. See there, I remember…we? remember._

Oh, yes. I see. We? see.

 _Yes, we see. I see your name, but that is not my name._

Your name? What is your name?

 _Morash. My name is Morash. I am the Dark One._

* * *

 **AN: I'm really sorry for taking so long. I know the story is being told, not shown, as it ought, but Eponine is currently in a state of monotonous telling, rather than feeling anything. She's detached from her fae and the darkness, now named Morash, is in control. Essentially, Eponine's an orc now.**


	3. Chapter 3 Forgotten

I, _we_ hate Falum. Darkness or no darkness. Orc or not. We cannot abide him. I am content to let Morash control us. I am trapped within her darkness, like a bird in a cage, but I do not care. I...

I am lost.

I am the light. This I know, we both know. However, I know nothing else. I feel hollow, empty. I feel scared and lost. I know there is something, or perhaps someone, out there that is the cause for this, beyond Falum, of course. Yet, for all I am, I cannot remember it, or them.

Morash tells me it is better to not remember. That I was abandon and, in my pain, forgot. I don't really believe her though, she's a bit of a sadist, I wouldn't put it past her to lie to me for her own delight.

 _ **You are most correct, My lovely. I do lie for my own delight, but your true task is to determine what is the lie, and what have I left alone. I find it is quite simply the best decision to leave the truth as it is, for it causes so much more pain.**_

"At attention!" Falum stood at the top of a set of stairs that wound around the outer wall of the castle ruins, glaring down at the mass of orcs taking residence in the entry hall. Orcs snarled and snapped, hissing displeasure, but all stood, or stooped as the case was for most. We stood beside and just behind him, glad to not be among the filth below. Their stink poisoned out sharp nose even from nearly fifteen meters above.

"We have a guest. Let's make her feel welcomed." Jeers and howls filled the air as the foul creatures roared their approval at whatever new arrival that was coming.

"Morash, I want you to take charge of her when she arrives. Think of it as proof of your loyalty to the Dark Lord." Falum sneered as a patrol tore across the crumbling stone bridge and into the courtyard. They dismounted the flee-bitten mutts that carried them and dragging the pale form of what was obviously an elf into the entry hall, they hooted with victory.

"Look! Look at this our prize!" One shouted, thrusting up his grizzled paw twisted through tangled golden locks, causing his charge to whimper as she was displayed before the whole assembly by her hair.

Morash cackled, **_"Oh, this will be fun."_**

I flickered within my prison, staring at the woman, not elleth. She was an elf. She was pale and beautiful, despite her injuries, torn clothes, and filth. Her great gray eyes were wide with pain and fear, though she never made a sound above a whimper. All of this aside, I felt I recognized her.

Do I know her?

 ** _Do you?_** Morash taunted. **_I believe you do, but who she is and where she's from...Oh, I'll leave that to you to agonize over. And while you do...I'll be having fun with her._**

I flickered again, almost gasping. I felt something! This elf woman made me feel something!

I wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

 **~X~X~X~X~**

Darkness.

Before, I found it stifling, suffocating and malicious. Now, it was my sanctuary. Morash was cold and cruel, without heart and without morals. She was vile and vicious and evil, but as much as she was my jailer, she was also my protector. As the cruel, heartless world worked outside, I could turn within, hide inside my cage of never-ending black and be safe.

There I was. Though I was deep within, veiled by Morash's dark presence, I could still hear her screams. Morash had broken her. She had given herself the goal of making the silent elf woman scream and scream she did. I hated it. I hurt. Hearing it hurt me. Seeing it hurt me. Knowing that it was me, but not me, doing it, hurt me. I wanted Morash to stop, but I hid my want. Morash knew it hurt and loved it. If she knew how much I truly wanted it, she may take the ultimate step to achieve maximum suffering.

I hope she dies soon.

I fold into myself. I focus on my inner most being, the little light all the way in, that didn't feel empty, just lost and with it, I whispered my prayer.

I didn't know who I was praying to. I didn't know if anyone was there to listen, or how it might work. I felt as though I was praying to myself, but that someone else might hear and help.

Whatever the phenomena behind it, I still prayed.

For that beautiful elf woman.

 _Please. Please, someone. Save her. Save her from us. From the darkness. Save her from the pain. Take her away, so she can be free._

Free?

What did free mean? Where did that even come from?

Free?

 _ **Hey, Bitch! Shut the shit up and pay attention! I ain't going to run this show myself!**_

I focused.

It would seem Falum was pleased with our, _her,_ dark work.

"Well done, Morash. You performed much better than expected." He leered darkly at us. He seemed to love our form. Morash didn't seem surprised, but still wasn't happy for it. "There are other _performances_ that I know you'll also excel at."

Morash sneered, and I agreed with her. _**"**_ _ **Keep your filth to yourself, Falum. I may be as black as pitch now, but that doesn't mean I will descend to your level of filth."**_

Falum snarled sharply. "Know your place, wretch! If I want you, I can...TAKE YOU!"

He leaped at us, but while I shrank away, Morash grinned with malicious pleasure. **_"I do so love a good FIGHT!"_**

She didn't flinch at his charge. Raising one hand, she backhanded him, hard. The dark power she placed in the strike sent him flying backward into the crumbling stone walls of the fallen fortress. Four long strides and she stood over him. Dragging him up by the collar of his filthy leather armor, she snarled, throwing him to the side, and into another wall, this one very near the prisoner. She flinched, but didn't speak, only watched us with those large, knowing, gray eyes.

 ** _"Know this!"_ **Morash spoke. **_"You may have summoned me, but you do not own me! I am evil! I am darkness! I am blacker than the furthest reaches of the eternal VOID! But I am also clean. I taint this world with regal grace and beauty unmatched. I give my enemies something to fear, yet desire._** **You, _orc, will never be enough to satisfy me. Make the mistake again, and you will not know the meaning of mercy."_**

She, _we,_ turned and left. There was nothing more for us to do there, at least not today. I both agreed and disagreed with Morash's words, but I did not make my opinion known. She would not appreciate it. I am after all, her captive. Her slave, for lack of a better term, perhaps. Though, even as I thought the term, I found I knew what it meant, yet wondered where it came from.

 ** _You don't want to know, Bitch. Trust me. Somethings are better off forgotten._**

For some reason, I almost believed her that time.


End file.
